


Little Fang

by peridotic



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Adopted Children, Bittersweet, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Imprinting, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nightmares, Self-Doubt, Sleepy Cuddles, fart car mention, hazel mauls a cherry, tuba misses her babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridotic/pseuds/peridotic
Summary: Overcome with grief, Tuba aimlessly travels from car to car in a desperate attempt to escape her past. Everything changes when she comes across Hazel.
Relationships: Hazel & Tuba (Infinity Train)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work on here — i also haven't rewatched book 1 or 2 in a while so forgive me if some stuff doesn't hold up! just wanted to write some fluffy hazel & tuba stuff since their screen-time together was short-lived. enjoy

The denizen had completely lost track of the days. Usually, there's a sense of urgency crossing the gangways — you had to hurry to the other car, lest you fall victim to one of the train's unseen dangers.

Usually there would be infants to scoop into her arms or let perch upon her broad shoulders while they carefully crossed the threshold between cars, but there was none of that now.

She had no purpose.

The metal catwalk creaked under her heavy feet as she plodded along to the next car. Grief hung heavy like a boulder in her chest and the dry, stagnant wind of the wastelands stung as it filled her lungs. Onto the next car. And then the next. And the next. She knew well that this desolate cycle would continue for the rest of her miserable life. The next set of doors slid open unceremoniously and Tuba entered, head hung with defeat. Vast plains stretched ahead of her, vibrant and lush in the rising sun. Stepping foot into the car, she noted the ground beneath her being oddly plush. The rolling hills ahead of her were composed of intricate patchwork — a wide expanse of massive quilts piled over each other in cozy heaps. Tuba found herself stopping to observe the cars and their functions less and less as time went on. Denizens typically don't leave their designated car. Wandering from car to car certainly wasn't uncommon, but usually, one would stay in the same general vicinity of their base car or make their way back after a given amount of time. The thought of stopping now pained Tuba. She couldn't process her problems, she couldn't run back and try to salvage the scattered pieces of the life she used to live, all she could do was... walk.

Something will happen soon. Something has to. 

Tuba cast an empty stare down at the plush trail beneath her feet as she began her journey across the plains. Stars forbid there were any other denizens in this car. Many of them had the sole purpose of helping passengers, hence their tendency to be brimming with alacrity. Tuba was... clearly not in the correct mindset to deal with any of that. She hadn't spoken a single word for the past dozen or so cars — her introverted exposition along with the endless mourning that plagued her like a parasite made conversation extremely unappealing. She would glance up now and then to confirm that no other denizens were around to pester her. To her surprised, it seemed this car was completely desolate. Tuba half-expected some overexcited rabbit residents to burst from the grass and greet her in a boisterous, unnecessary ballad, or maybe a panicked passenger to charge up and demand to know where on Earth they were. This... was indeed a nice change of pace. 

The door was nowhere in sight, though Tuba wasn't necessarily fazed. A lack of food might be a minor cause for concern, but she was happy to escape the uncertain chaos of the other cars. The warm, simulated sunlight shone down on Tuba's back, warming her cobalt fur and filling her with a slight inner peace. Spotting a tree up ahead, she veered off the path and collapsed at the trunk's base, letting out a heavy sigh as her back rested against the trunk. It seemed the trunk was plush as well, though its base was sturdy, only giving the slightest tremor as Tuba settled against it. The tension in her shoulders released and her eyes slipped shut as she lounged beneath the shade. The quilt beneath her gave her a sense of security — it was certainly comfier than any nest she had ever built, but... something was missing.

Her heart sank as she remembered her offspring.

The denizen's eyes cracked open, gazing out into the hazy field as she tried desperately to brush off the feeling of guilt and utter loneliness creeping back in. As much as she told herself there was nothing she could do to help it now, those feelings would always percolate through her icy exterior and trickle down to her tender heart. Tuba sighed, letting her head roll back and rest on the tree’s trunk when a rustle above shook her from her despondent daze. She craned her head back to see what the commotion was about, fully prepared to get up and hurry back along the trail. _Oh great, another denizen..._

For a long moment, nothing happened. She stared up at the tree, brow furrowed in focus when a small, brown leg erupted from the tree’s plush foliage. Tuba jumped slightly, watching the small limb kick around energetically. A... passenger?

It didn’t take long for the rest of the weight to tumble down from the tree, Tuba flinching as the stranger landed upside down in her lap with a thud. A giggle erupted from the being before they bubbled into an uproarious laugher, to Tuba’s surprise. Curious, she grabbed the child by the scruff of their clothes, holding them up so they were eye-level to her. She was eye-to-eye with a beaming, disheveled little girl, whose giggles subsided once she looked into Tuba’s eyes. Her brown eyes sparkled with awe as she dangled from Tuba’s grip. “You’re big,” she mouthed. 

Tuba didn’t respond, examining the girl’s garments and taking her small hand in the denizen’s much larger one, unfurling it to find the number beneath. Oddly enough, there was a number etched into her palm... though it didn’t glow like the others typically would. She didn’t question it, thinking maybe it was just an error on the train’s part. Her knowledge of the train was limited, to say the least.   
“My name’s Hazel!” she greeted, extending a hand to Tuba. “What’s yours?”  
Tuba hesitated, a bit taken aback by the sudden gesture. She awkwardly took the little girl’s hand between her thumb and index finger, giving it a gentle wave. Her throat rasped as she cleared it, feeling the first word she’d spoken in months start to rumble up from her chest.  
“Tuba.” she said plainly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tuba!” beamed Hazel. “You’re really tough looking! Are those tubas on your back? Is this your car?” she prattled on, crawling up onto the denizen’s shoulders and poking her small head into the heavy brass instruments on her back. All of this new attention was overwhelming, of course, but also... endearing. This passenger didn’t make Tuba want to lash out or flee like some of her other encounters had gone. She felt oddly protective of this one. Tuba struggled to respond. 

“Oh...” Hazel poked her head in front of Tuba’s line of sight suddenly, her long mane shielding Tuba’s vision like a veil. “Are you shy? It’s okay...! I get shy sometimes too...” she comforted. 

Puzzled, Tuba furrowed her brow. “I guess you could say that,” she murmured. Hazel tumbled forward, off of Tuba’s shoulders and back into her lap, staring up at the beast. “Where did you come from?” asked Tuba, running a large hand over Hazel’s head.  
“The last car!”  
“I mean... before that.”  
“The car before that one?”  
Tuba let out a defeated sigh. “Ohh boy. You’ve been traveling quite a bit, haven’t you?”  
“Mhm! I’m real good at it.” Hazel said proudly, hands on her hips.  
Tuba nodded in understanding. “So have I,” she said. “I guess we’re both troopers, then.”   
“Yeah!” Hazel effused with a giggle. Their short-lived conversation was interrupted by a small growl, bringing their attention to Hazel’s stomach. “Is... there food somewhere?” she asked sheepishly, gripping the hem of her sweater vest. Of course... there’d been a lack of food for the past few cars, or at the very least, nothing that was in reach for a small child. Tuba was absolutely not opposed to helping feed another mouth — it was something she missed dreadfully. The thought alone of getting to care for anyone like she cared for her young filled her with a shred of hope. She reached over and opened her satchel, only to discover that its contents were empty. Of course. She’d only been foraging for one, so it had completely slipped her mind.

“Mm... I don’t think so. We should get moving,” Tuba sighed. “There’s bound to be something in the next car.”   
Hazel seemed to be enthused by the sound of this, her big eyes lighting up as a grin spread across her face.   
“Yeah! C’mon, Tuba, let’s go!” she cheered as she jumped to her feet, laughing as she scampered down the trail. Hazel was simply brimming with energy. Tuba was briefly reminded of Bugle, a bittersweet knot forming in her chest. Always so playful. Careless. Jejune.

Tuba followed behind on all fours as Hazel pranced along the woven trail, skipping and leaping from patch to patch, doing extravagant somersaults along the path and rolling down hills, only to stumble and collapse in a giggly heap at the foot of them. Tuba slowed to a halt in front of Hazel, who was sprawled on her back, laughing heartily and basking in the warm sunlight. Gently, she scooped the laughing child into her hands and set her upright, brushing her ruffled mane out of her eyes. Weak with laughter, Hazel swayed in place momentarily before bouncing back after Tuba. “Come on, now.” beckoned Tuba.  
“I am!” Hazel bubbled as she pranced after Tuba.


	2. Chapter 2

Children were scary to Tuba.

In that, she wasn’t repulsed by grubby hands or wailing tantrums... but the threat of demise that constantly dangled over their heads. 

Tuba knew well, survival on the train wasn’t easy.

Every car posed a new threat, another possibility for them to have their precious lives robbed from them in the blink of an eye. Though the responsibility of another child filled her heart with glee, dread quickly followed. She didn’t want to lose this one. The occasional intrusive thought would cross her mind, grim, fleeting, and far from rational — maybe it would be easier to just leave them behind and not form such a strong attachment to something that can be taken from you so easily.  
Is it even worth it?

Tuba mulled over that question tirelessly as she watched Hazel gorge into a giant cherry. Of course, she wouldn’t leave Hazel behind — she wouldn’t dream of it. But every moment that passed with this new passenger by her side filled her with anxiety. She wanted so badly not to make another mistake. She’d be completely and utterly shattered if anything happened to this one.   
She couldn’t do this.  
Not again. 

A few cars away from the patchwork car where Hazel and Tuba met was a car that was simply a vast, white expanse and... giant fruit. It was convenient — a touch bizarre, but she’d heard stories of similar cars that reeked of flatulence or contained nothing but angry wasps. She was truly grateful to be in this car and not one of the others. Tuba’s sharp fangs pierced the flesh of a large blueberry, tearing it open and revealing its contents. She savored the sugary tang of the fruit as she sat, lost deep in thought. Hazel was seated across from her, ferociously sinking her teeth into a cherry the size of her head. She had a monstrous appetite — it was clear she hadn’t seen any food for ages. Her number hadn’t seemed to falter at all within the past few cars, either.

Tuba began to worry about how she’d fare without any guidance or protection. She was already a fairly gaunt thing, though Tuba supposed she made up for the lack of physical strength with her boundless energy. “Hazel...” said Tuba.  
Hazel looked up from her ravaged cherry, red cherry juice staining her cheeks. “Mm?” she hummed inquisitively, mouth still full with food.  
“Have you been traveling by yourself this entire time?”  
The little girl gave two exaggerated nods of her head. She swallowed before wiping a fist across her mouth. “Mhm, it’s always been just me. I’m a trooper, just like you said!”  
Tuba pondered for a moment, taking another bite out of her blueberry.  
“What about your parents?” she asked.

Hazel froze completely, her brows furrowing and eyes moving to the ground as if she were focusing hard on something. “My parents...?” she parroted. Her shoulders tensed and her head bowed, masking her face in a swathe or blonde hair. “I don’t remember...” Hazel mumbled.  
“You don’t remember anything?” asked Tuba, moving closer to console the girl. Hazel shook her head. “It’s all fuzzy,” she muttered, leaning into Tuba’s touch as the denizen rubbed her shoulder in comfort. “all I remember is here.”

This... was definitely a bizarre case.  
Maybe she was born on the train? It wasn’t like she could ask about her number and expect a complete, straight-to-the-point answer. She was beginning to  
realize that there wasn’t much of a choice when it came to Hazel. It was unlikely that she’d last long on her own on the train — and it certainly didn’t seem like anyone else would be there to look out for her.  
Tuba had to take this risk.

“Did you... want to stick with me?” asked Tuba, looking down at the girl. 

Her blank stare suddenly ignited, eyes gleaming as she threw her head back to look up at Tuba. “Really...?” she gasped.  
A smile crept onto Tuba’s face as she nodded with approval. Hazel squealed, kicking wildly with delight. “I get to stay with Tuba!” she announced proudly to no one in particular, tossing aside her half-eaten cherry to wrap her arms around Tuba’s arm. Tuba gave a small, hearty chuckle and lifted her arm, watching as the girl stayed latched on, nuzzling into the warm fur. "Alright then," Tuba said, gently placing Hazel on her back. "let's get a move on." She opened her satchel, placing a couple of blueberries inside before moving on to the car door. Hazel nuzzled into the scruff of her fur, giving a content and happy sigh. Tuba couldn't help but crack a smile.

For the first time in months, a weight had been lifted.  
She had someone to live for.


End file.
